Scarred
by I like drawing ducks
Summary: Alexandra is not another victim. She is their ADA. And she has issues. Olivia Benson is not a victim. She is strong. And she has issues. Both try to help each-other, to help themselves.


When Alex came home she sat down on her bed and let out a sigh. The day was over. She had survived yet another day of work. A day of pretending everything was normal. She sat down and stared at the box cutter next to the bed. It was still laced with dried blood and Alex could feel the pull towards it. It was like a force of nature. She tried to be strong, she really did, but every night was the same. Coming home, battling the demons in her head until she finally gave them what they wanted, falling into a blissful sleep until she needed to get up and work again. Every night she tried to break the cycle, tried to fall asleep without etching another scar into her skin. But every night ended the same. The knife promised relief, promised to let out the pain inside so she could sink in to a dreamless sleep. Alex sighed, was this really all she had to look forward to, a night of trying to stop something she knew would happen anyway, getting far too few hours of sleep, getting up, pretending like everything is fine until she can go home and starting it all over. Was this what she, Alexandra Cabot had become? She was and ADA, the SVU's ADA. She was the Ice Queen, never betraying an emotion in the courtroom, she was Alexandra Cabot with a gaze that could make any perp squirm. She didn't even know if that mattered anymore, once she had loved her work, even when the cutting started. On the job she was still the viscous ADA, in the courtroom she still had power. Still had control. That was all it had been at first. One cut, one crimson line that gave her control of the pain inside. A way to gain control. At first it had only happened sometimes, like when she had a stressful case or when she felt extra bad but soon it had become a regular occurrence. First once a week, then twice. She had tried to stop but every time the box cutter was there. Promising her peace if she just made one little cut. She tried to stop but she was powerless and soon it happened every day. At first she had made the cuts on her thighs, places no one would notice but now the scares littered her whole body except for hands and face. She sighed and prepared for yet another mental battle.

It was already starting to dawn when Alex gave in. When she raised the box cuter and made yet another line in her skin. It felt so good, to have something real to focus on instead of the constant, suffoucating pain that surrounded her. She made another line and dropped the cutter, laying down in her bed again, feeling the sleep overwhelm her. She loved this feeling, this feeling of temporary peace, she loved it, but also hated herself every time she gave in. "Just this time." She promised herself, knowing fully that it was a lie. That the pain would be back tomorrow and the she, weak as she was, would give in. Soon she fell into a dreamless sleep, blissfully unaware of what would wake her the next morning.

When Alex awoke she heard a sharp nock on the door. That and someone calling her name.

"Alex?" Someone she recognized, but in her newly awoken state couldn't place.

"Alex?" The voice called again. That's when she realized. Olivia? What would the detective be doing in her apartment on a Saturday? She glanced at the clock. It showed that it was half past eight in the morning. Not awfully early, but not late enough for it to be weird that she was still sleeping.

"Alex?" Olivia yelled again and Alex decided that she needed to answer the door as quickly as possible. She made her way to the door as fast as she could and it wasn't until she heard the detective gasp that she realized her mistake. She was still wearing the t-shirt she'd slept in. The t-shirt that showed her legs, and arms, and all the scars upon them.

"Oh my god, Alex what…" Olivia trailed of, she was usually so confident and knew how to handle every situation, never showing fear, but this, this was Alex, Alexandra Cabot, their fearless, intimidating, confident, determined ADA. This was Alex, with scars all over her body, scars that she had caused herself. And Olivia had no idea of what to say or what to do.

"Why?" was the only thing she quietly said. Alex first instinct was to throw the door in Olivia's face, but she knew that that would hardly lead anywhere. Instead she tried to step in to the confident lawyer persona she was so used to assuming. She took a deep breath and began talking, trying to resume control over the situation.

"I'll go to my room and change in to something a bit more presentable and then you can tell me about why you are here and forget about what you saw."

"Alex" Olivia pleaded. "Alex, you need help…" she tried but the ADA had already began to walk away.

When Alex entered her room she started to panic. Olivia had seen, she had seen what she did to herself, she had… And she wasn't going to forget it, whatever Alex tried to tell her, every argument she tried to come up with was worthless. She couldn't deal with this. With their stone cold no nonsense ADA being… This. She felt an urge to run. Right now. Do what Alex told her and forget about the whole thing. But… The part of her that deal with victims told her that she'd never forget if she did. And never forget. So she forced herself to stand and watch the closed door that she knew Alex was freaking out behind.

Shit. Alex looked down at her legs. Covered in scars. Perfect. Now Olivia was going to pity her. And Alexandra Cabot didn't do pity. Alexandra Cabot did respect. And she knew that was the last thing her appearance was inducing.


End file.
